The High-Achiever’s Secret Weapon Against Failure
Why do we crave praise, but fear failure so deeply – even when we know better? Today we unpack the irksome conditioning behind that need for validation, plus a non-obvious shift that can set you free.
I’ve seen it over and over among my friends. In the mirror. And in what I swore I wouldn’t teach my daughters.
It’s that heightened feeling of wanting praise. Of doing something fun or artistic or interesting or intellectual and putting it out into the world and then waiting to see what everyone says about it.
That used to mean sitting by the phone or checking the mailbox as soon as the post comes.
Now it means refreshing your inbox or checking your social feeds.
And it’s relatable, isn’t it? It’s that tail-wagging feeling you crave after working late nights on a big project and wanting someone, anyone, to tell you that you did a good job.
It’s also feeling the raw fear of launching something unlike anything anyone’s ever done before and dreading public failure.
But let’s sit with that unattractive F-word for a second—failure.
Because maybe that’s key…
Backward Thinking At Its Best
Spanx founder Sara Blakely has spoken many times about how her father encouraged her to “fail” as a child. Doing so helped her reframe her challenges into “oops” moments and opportunities to learn—meaning those failures didn’t become evidence that she was a fraud or an imposter.
And fortunately, that’s becoming a common lesson—teaching that failure is okay happens more and more.
You see it all the time in the standard motivational language we feed kids these days:
“How many times did Edison try to invent the lightbulb?”
“If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.”
“You miss every shot you don’t take.”
So failure is obviously part of success. The intellectual in each of us knows that.
Yet understanding that and being a-okay with the idea of really, truly, epically failing as an adult are two different things.
Can We Point a Finger… Somewhere?
To be fair, this is partly a cultural problem.
As kids, and particularly so for young girls, we’re taught to base our self-worth on external validation and the approval of others. It’s not about not failing. It’s about the win in winning.
Problem is, there’s no room there for recognizing your own competence. All too rarely the winning part is celebrated, and very little is said about the slog to get to that win. The try-try-try again part. The failing and getting back up, even if you’re battered and bruised.
Fold in the fact that generations of women have been told to be modest or grateful when good things happen or they succeed, and it gets hella hard to own your brilliance without guilt or awkwardness.
Add to that the systemic failure in most professional settings where, especially when it comes to heavily male-dominated industries, there’s not a lot of psychological safety around failure, coupled with little talk about effort.
We also don’t see people fail publicly unless they’re being smeared across publications or media.
Even those willing to talk about their struggles aren’t often asked about them in interviews.
And there’s some sense in that, because if you’re trying to replicate someone else’s success, it makes sense to ask questions about what worked.
So who’s to blame for this lack-of-love-of-failure crisis, and how do we overcome it?
Julia Child is My Failure Hero
First, we talk about failing. Openly, publicly, in pictures, and in conversation.
There’s a video I once saw of Julia Child tossing a pancake over her shoulder with a muttered, “Well, now, that didn’t work so we’ll just toss it.” It was beautiful. She kept right on cooking.
And then there’s this gem:
“If you’re not going to be ready to fail, you’re not going to learn to cook,” chides Julia.
In the clip above, she also calls Americans out on our fear of failure and gives the French a nod at their ability to overcome. (I know very little about the French success mindset, so I think I’ll take me to France someday to see it in real life.)
The Corny, Simple, Lovely Answer to It All
Second, we choose our focus wisely. So instead of fixating on the fear of failure and overcoming it, we expand the message to simply not care so much about what others think.
Which feels impossible, yes, when you’ve been brought up to salivate at praise. (Or is that just me?)
I can’t blame my parents. They made it a practice of not celebrating my good grades because they (or so I thought) didn’t want to highlight my brother’s less-than good grades. “You’re doing it for yourself, Mindy,” they’d say.” Not true. I did it for the gold stars and my name on the school marquee and the award plaques and the scholarships. (The only thing worth pursuing in that goal-quest was the scholarships.)
I am sharing this to point out that the constant desire to be lauded is a symptom of an award-based culture. But I’m not suggesting we do away with that. Awards are fun. And also, effort should be rewarded. (I get that this opens up a whole other loop about trophy culture if you even set foot in the game, but that’s not what we’re talking about today.)
The question at hand: is it even possible to escape this loop of not wanting to fail and questioning your worthiness when or if you don’t win?
The answer is so simple. So cornily simple.
The answer is love. Just love. That’s how you escape the loop.
But not romantic love. I’m talking about basic, core, human-to-human love. That kind of love where someone sees you as just a person out there trying to do your best and often succeeding and sometimes not and none of it matters because at the end of the day she’ll still walk a mile with you or go out for pie and will love you whether you just landed the biggest promotion of your life or epically failed at a project that set your company back several thousand.
I never knew the power of this kind of love till recently. (Note: it can come from friends, family, from the opposite sex, from your partner… but it’s that core, unequivocal, individual love we all need and deserve, uncomplicated by the dynamics of labeled relationships.)
The Radical Focus Shift
As for the blame question, and specifically who or what is to blame for this pernicious problem, I don’t think you should waste another thought on it.
It’s just not worth your time. Sure, you could argue that if we don’t call out systemic oppression and cultural bias then it’ll never get fixed. And maybe that’s true.
But I firmly believe that what you resist, persists. I’ve seen it in my life, time and again.
If you choose your focus wisely, that’s where the magic happens.
So I invite you to shift your attention, your conversation, and the way you live your life toward a way of being that’s authentically you, with all your failures and sloppy effort and radiant triumphs.
Next week, I’ll share how I found bucketfuls of this love that supported my own search for authenticity… and why it was so much easier than I thought it would be, thanks to a simple technique.
For now, if you feel called to be more authentic in your own life and career, I’d love to guide you on that journey. Take a peek at this form and apply if it’s a fit.

